Stranded
by Cu Chulainn 1945
Summary: Sentient plant-life, thunderstorms, and piggy-back rides. Things just couldn't get worse on this planet, could they?
1. Chapter 1: Vines!

The planet was dark-skied and only reach-able by shuttle. The team that went was small - Colonel Young and Dr. Rush, Dr. Park and Dr. Volker, Sergeant Greer and Eli. They split into teams, the first three together and the last three together.

Things were going fairly well.

"I'm running ahead," Park told the colonel as they headed up the hill. "I want to take a look at the hanging flora."

Young nodded tersely and she bounded ahead. The colonel wasn't sure what to feel - relieved that the eternally peppy woman was gone, or disappointed that he was alone with Rush.

Ugh.

"Can you try to keep up?" he barked at the scientist, who was lagging behind a few steps.

"I'm looking at this plant," Rush snapped back.

"Why?"

"Because it's _interesting_, Colonel, and it could have medicinal properties that Lieutenant Johansen would certainly appreciate for the infirmary."

Young stopped walking and turned to Rush, eyes narrowed.

"Leave it," he said. "If Park didn't think it was worth a look, then it's not worth a look."

"Park didn't see it," Rush argued. "She was rather distracted by the concept of _vines_."

They heard something like a whoop from where Park had run ahead, and Young was embarrassingly certain she was playing Tarzan.

"That's irrelevant," he said. "We need to keep moving."

"_We_ _need_ to investigate everything that could possibly be of use to Destiny!"

"Rush!" Young snarled. "You are not in charge here! You have no authority on this planet or on Destiny -"

"This isn't about _authority_-"

A choked scream cut across Rush's voice, and both he and Young froze. They looked up at the tangled mass of trees and vines jutting over the hill.

"How did _Tarzan_ end?" asked Young, voice weak. Rush looked at him sharply.

"What?"

"How did _Tarzan_ end? The Disney movie."

"How the hell would I know?"

Another scream. Young and Rush spared each other a surprised glance and then both of them were racing up the hill and into the jungle.

Foliage blocked Young's view, turning everything green, and brambles tugged at his legs as he tried to get to the frantic noises ahead. Rush - who was much faster - bolted in front of him until he reached a giant fallen tree. Without thinking much, Young sprinted up, but his hands on Rush's back, and vaulted over, earning him a strangled yelp from the scientist who was left behind.

Ten yards in front of him was Dr. Park, entangled in vines - vines that were _actively choking her_ - and struggling to get free.

Damn alien foliage!

"Hold on!" Young yelled, rushing forward. Whatever vines weren't grabbing at Park snapped toward him, trying to grab his ankles and trip him up. Young dodged them as best he could as he simultaneously tried to remove the knife from his calf-holster.

He jumped ahead of a vine and got his pant leg up.

Park let out another strangled yell.

He bobbed around another vine and managed to brush his fingertips against the handle of the knife before he had to move again. In the corner of his eye, he saw that Rush had found a way over the tree and was heading for them.

"Go back!" Young roared, ducking a particularly vicious sentient plant. Rush ignored him and headed straight for Park. "What are you doing?" Young cried. "I said get away!"

Rush spared him a thumbs-up gesture that completely baffled Young and threw him off his game. A vine wrapped around his foot and he yanked away, feeling something near his ankle twist unpleasantly. He kept running, and this time he managed to retrieve the knife.

"Throw it here!" called Rush, who wasn't being bothered by the vines at all. Bastard. Young ignored him in favor of trying to make his way over and cut the vines himself. "You idiot!" Rush shouted. "She's freaking choking! _Throw the knife here_!"

Young shook his head and made it about three feet before his ankle gave out. He tried to get up, failed, and for a brief moment thought the ground was pounding. Then he realized it was just Rush running to take the knife from him.

"Give it here," Rush hissed, prying at Young's clenched fist. With no warning, he stepped down and stomped - hard - on Young's knife hand. There was an audible snap and Young let out a shout of pain - the next minute, Rush was gone.


	2. Chapter 2: Hikes!

It took a while for Young's vision to clear. He saw his hand first, limp and dangling off his wrist like a hunk of meat. Then he saw Park, looking somewhat dazed but perfectly safe, talking to the vines.

Wait - talking to the vines? The vines were _friendly_ now?

He'd get to that later.

Logically, the next thing Young saw should've been Rush. But that was the problem - he _couldn't_ see Rush. Anywhere. The man was gone.

"Park," Young breathed, sitting up. She looked over at him.

"Thanks for saving me!" she chirped. "The flora's friendly now, so no big deal."

"No problem," Young said. "Um … where's Rush?"

Park's head shot up from the vine she was petting.

"Rush?" she said.

Young nodded.

"I figured he was back down the hill," said Park, visibly confused. "So he was with you?"

"He cut the vines," Young said, gesturing weakly toward the now-domestic plants. "Don't you remember?"

"No, I couldn't see. Lack of oxygen."

Sighing - and totally not worried, totally not worried at all - Young rose to his feet and started looking around. He trudged through the high grass and various, less-sentient plants, trying not to gnaw at his bottom lip or look worried. Because he wasn't.

In the plants several yards away, he caught sight of something white and fabric-looking. Then something faded and blue.

Rush.

As fast as he could with a sprained ankle (and a broken wrist, though that technically didn't affect how fast his feet moved), Young hurried to where Rush lay in the grass. The other man's head was tipped backward and his eyes were closed - his leg was bent at an unnatural angle.

"_Rush_," Young said loudly, slapping the scientist in the face. No response - he tried again. "_Rush_!"

Slowly, Rush's eyes flickered open. He looked dazed for a moment - then he grimaced in pain.

"What happened?" Young asked, voice low. Rush groaned. "Rush."

"All right, all right."

His voice was weak.

"Are you injured?" Young asked. Rush rolled his eyes.

"Three guesses, Colonel. Three guesses."

"OK, don't be a smartass. You're injured. Where?" At another disbelieving look from Rush, Young added to his question. "Other than your leg."

Rush breathed out something that might have been a faint attempt at 'oh.' He lifted a hand and put it down gingerly against his chest. Young watched him.

"Your ribs?" he guessed.

"Yeah."

"Broken or bruised? Or cracked?"

Rush just stared at him, eyes hooded. He seemed to be thinking of something.

"Is Park alive?" he said finally, sounding more curious than concerned. Young's jaw went slack.

"Yes," he said.

"Oh," said Rush. "Good. No one else will run the hydroponics lab."

Young suspected that Rush would also have missed Park if she had died - but then again, the bastard had broken his wrist, so maybe charitable thoughts weren't necessary here.

"Are your ribs broken, bruised, or cracked?" he asked again.

"I 'unno," said Rush.

Young closed his eyes and willed himself to be patient.

"OK," he said quietly. "OK. Park!"

"Good vine!" he heard. "Good Billy! - Yeah?"

"I need your help."

There was a pause, then Park was heading down the hill toward him, her face the picture of curiosity.

"Oh, wow," she said when she got close enough to see Rush. "What happened to him?"

"I _tripped_," Rush said nastily. Young rolled his eyes.

"He broke his leg - maybe his ribs. We need to get him back to the shuttle."

Park looked uncertain. Maybe she was thinking of the best way to carry a fully-conscious Rush across a jungle. Maybe she was thinking of a way to knock Rush out with no repercussions. Most likely though, she was thinking that she didn't want to touch Rush.

"Don't worry," Young assured her. "He's not heavy."

Below them, Rush looked as though he'd realized what they were planning and didn't like it much.

"You are _not _carrying me," he said.

"Rush -" Young started.

"I can walk!" Rush tried and failed to sit up. For a moment, he laid on the ground with his eyes squeezed shut, clutching his ribs. Then he looked at them again. "Let me try again."

"No."

"Colonel -!"

"Grab his feet, Park. We're going piggyback."

"_What_?" Rush squeaked. Then he yelped as Young grabbed him by the collar and Park grabbed him by the trouser legs, both of them yanking upward. The next thing he knew, he was pressed to the colonel's back, his arms going 'round Young's neck out of nothing more than instinct and the desire not to fall.

"There, that's not so bad," said Young evenly, awkwardly holding Rush's broken leg with his own un-broken hand. The other leg curled around his waist and dug into his stomach a little more viciously than was strictly necessary. "Park, call Sergeant Greer and tell him that we're heading back."

"Yes, sir."

She got his radio and turned it on.

"Hey, Ron?" she said into it. "We're going back to the shuttle. Colonel Young and Dr. Rush got hurt."

"What?" said Greer's voice, staticky and far-away. "What happened?"

"Vines."

"_Vines_?"

"Sentient vines. I named one Billy."

"Is that Lisa?" said Volker's voice from the radio. "Why is she calling you Ron?"

Young headed back down the path they'd come from, already thinking about how they would get around the giant tree. Each step was jostling and painful for both of them.

"Ow," said Rush at the same time Young put too much pressure on his sprained ankle and winced.

"Shut up," Young told him.

"I think I have a right to complain, thanks. You aren't the one with broken ribs."

"Although I do have a broken wrist," Young pointed out a little testily. "Not to mention I'm carrying you across the two miles we've covered with a sprained ankle."

"You keep jostling my leg. Stop it."

Young sighed through his nose and set off through the brambles and fallen branches, trying to forge a path that would circumspect the tree. His foot screamed in protest, Rush was tense and much heavier now that they'd been walking for a while, and his wrist was sending awful, sharp pains up and down his arm. At least he had comfort in the fact that it couldn't get much worse.

Which was when thunder boomed and it started to rain.


	3. Chapter 3: Slumber Parties!

Limping through the rain with a broken wrist was not a fun experience under normal conditions. Doing it on an alien planet surrounded by untrustworthy plants while one piggy-backed a snarly scientist and led a rain-blinded optimist by the hand just made it worse.

Lightning struck. Park let out a little scream and squeezed Young's broken hand. He yelped and jumped, accidentally squeezing Rush's broken leg and beating the scientist in the ribs with his back. Rush slapped him in the back of the head and strengthened his grip around Young's neck into a chokehold.

Soon, they were all on the ground.

"I can't see!" Park cried, scrubbing at her face. "Alien dirt in my eyes! Alien dirt!"

Young ignored her. He was preoccupied with laying on top of Rush so the little man didn't try to go anywhere.

"Can't … breathe …" Rush gasped. Young wasn't fooled, but he figured by now he could stand again, so he got up anyway.

"Are you ready to behave?" he asked. Miserably, Rush just regained his hold and nodded. "Good. Park - you ready?"

"Yeah."

They only had another quarter-mile to go, but everyone was already soaked and Young was worried the more petite people in the group might get colds. Which would serve one of them right, broken ribs or no. He just didn't like the idea of a choked and feverish Park on his conscience.

"Park," he said, "call Sergeant Greer again."

"Hey, Ron," she said into the radio.

"Hey, sweetie."

"Did you just call her sweetie?" came Volker's outraged voice from over the radio. "What the hell, man?"

"What's up?" asked Greer.

"Oh, it's nothing," Park said. "We're still walking. It's really beautiful out, nice flowers and such. I can't really see them, due to the rain, but I think they're there."

"That's nice, hon.'"

"Tell him to meet us here," Young ordered, squinting against the haziness that was the jungle. "We're walking to the shuttle."

"I had a nice thought earlier," Park told Greer, completely ignoring the shuttle. "When we get back to Earth, how would you feel about a summer lakehouse? Somewhere we could take the kids for a family vacation."

"I love it," Greer replied.

"I like lakes," said Volker a bit desperately. "Actually, I have a lakehouse. You can come visit me. It'll be fun!"

"Love you, Ronnie," Park cooed. "Bye."

She shut the radio off. Young would have said something, but he was pretty sure that then he'd have a crying Park on his hands, and that was too much for him right now.

Soon, a blurry shape could be made out on the horizon. Young scrutinized it, unsure if it was really the shuttle.

"Do you see that?" he asked.

"What?" Rush replied.

"No," Park said.

"I think it's the shuttle." Young picked up his pace a little, ignoring Rush's grumbles, and soon they reached it. He nearly jumped with joy. "It is!" he called back to Park, who was still stumbling through the undergrowth. "I found it!"

"Oh, well done," Rush snarked. "Really great. You know what would have been even more amazing? If you had made this trip yourself, then flown back with the shuttle and gotten the injured parties. Just a thought."

Young looked for the door release. That was when he noticed something.

The lights in the shuttle were on.

"Oh, no way," he muttered, already starting to fume. He banged on the shuttle door. "Greer? Volker? Eli?" he shouted. "Are you in there?"

There was a pause.

"Who is it?" Volker called.

"Is it the pizza guy?" asked Eli. Young resisted the urge to facepalm only because he had no free hands.

"Yes," he said, voice heavy with sarcasm. "It's the pizza guy. Let us in!"

"Pizza!" Eli cheered. With a clank and a hiss, the shuttle door slid open and the bedraggled vine-and-rain-survivors stumbled in.

"Hey, sunshine," said Eli. It took Young a few seconds to realize Mathboy was talking to him. It took him considerably less time to scowl.

"Rush is injured," he said gruffly, doing a stiff little turn.

"When isn't he?" asked Volker. He was treated to a snarling stream of curses from Dr. Rush.

"He broke his leg," Young continued, "and possibly his ribs. Furthermore, I am sporting a couple scrapes and bumps myself, thanks to … someone."

He couldn't see it, but he could definitely feel Rush's glare.

"So we won't be flying home tonight," he finished. "And honestly, I wouldn't have attempted it in this storm anyway."

It seemed to take a moment for his words to sink in.

"Wait," said Eli slowly. "So … we're sleeping here, then? In the shuttle?"

Young nodded. Greer, Volker, Eli, and Park all looked at each other, faces pensive, and Young definitely understood their pain. Cramped quarters were never fun, and with all the possible tension between the six of them, it -

"Slumber party!" Eli and Park cried.

"Damn it," Young said.


	4. Chapter 4: Rain!

Young wasted no time in dropping Rush onto the floor, though to be fair he almost did it gently. With the First Aid kit that TJ had insisted they take, it was no time at all before the colonel was all fixed up. He tugged the bandages a little tighter and took a look at the bruise on Park's neck.

"Is it strained?" he asked, having absolutely no idea what to ask or do. "Does it … hurt at all?"

"Um … yeah?" said Park. "Shouldn't we be looking at Dr. Rush?"

Young ignored her. "Do you feel any _sharpness_ or_ irregularity_ in your throat?"

"Hey, guys?" said Volker from behind them. "Rush is bleeding from his mouth."

Young ignored him. "Are you psychologically scarred?" he asked. Park thought about it.

"Most likely," she admitted. Young hadn't expected that and subsequently didn't want to deal with it.

"That's normal," he said reassuringly. "Here, let me bandage your throat."

Park looked at him doubtfully. "Is that really necessary?" she asked. "I think Dr. Rush could use it more."

"Forget Rush," said Young patiently. "He's fine. Now let me bandage your throat."

"No!" She pushed him away. "I'll look like a cowboy."

"A _sexy_ cowboy," Greer cut in. Volker covered his eyes.

"I like cowboys," Rush said weakly and a little deliriously.

"OK!" said Eli. "I think it's seriously time to tend to Rush now."

Grumbling, Young gathered up the medical supplies and moved to Rush's side.

"Hold still," he said, reaching for Rush's shirt. The scientist's glazed eyes became un-glazed.

"What?" he said. "No! Get away!"

"I'm feeling your ribs," Young assured him.

"Like hell you are! Let go of my shirt!"

With a silent, communicating look at Greer, Young nodded and soon the other soldier sprang into action, grabbing Rush hands and pinning them beside his head.

"There," said Young. "That's not so hard."

He reached toward Rush's stomach, hesitated, and put on some rubber gloves.

"Oh, _flattering_," Rush sniped.

"Wasn't meant to be."

"I noticed."

Slowly, Young positioned his fingers over a nasty spot of bruising and poked at it.

"Um, _ow_," said Eli, not at all approving of the colonel's methods. Young ignored him, a practice which was swiftly becoming like instinct to him.

He felt around the bruising and caught something irregular, like broken bone. Well, that was one problem solved. Quickly, Young trailed his fingers down and over to another bruise, crossing Rush's stomach.

Rush jerked.

Young froze.

"What?" he said, looking back at the scientist's stomach. "Did that hurt?"

He couldn't imagine why it would. There was no bruising there, and he couldn't exactly have a broken stomach. Could he? Young wasn't very medical.

Before Rush could formulate an answer, the colonel ran his fingers across his stomach again. This time, Rush jerked away and _wiggled_.

"He's ticklish!" Eli cried.

"Volker's in love with Park!" Rush exclaimed, because apparently his way of avoiding embarrassment was irrationally embarrassing someone else. Volker turned red, but no one really seemed to notice.

Experimentally, Young wiggled his fingers across Rush's stomach, earning a breathless burst of laughter and a strained "_ow_" when the scientist stretched his ribs.

"OK," said Park in a very motherly way. "Let's play nice, guys. Colonel Young, stop tickling Rush."

Young resisted the urge to pout. He decided instead to try and set Rush's bones, which - as far as he knew - meant pushing the broken bits together and then wrapping them in bandages really fast.

"OW FUCK IT HELL MAN WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?" Rush screamed.

"Sorry," Young said. Park pulled him away.

"Let's just … do the leg now," she suggested. Rush stared daggers at her.

"You are _not_ taking off my pants," he growled.

"But, Dr. Rush -"

The power of his glare blinded her. Feeling woozy, Park walked away.

"OK, then," said Eli lightly. "That was fun."

No one said anything.

"Who's up for a game?" Eli tried again. "Since we're having a sleepover and all. I vote for Truth or Dare."

"Eli."

"Yeah?"

"Shut up."


	5. Chapter 5: Lions!

"OK, guys," said Eli, "here are the rules. We're naming animals that start with A. We go in turns, and if you can't think of one, you're out."

There were general murmurs of understanding.

"Do we get to come back in?" asked Volker.

"No one ever wants to play that long," Eli assured him. "But if we make it to B, Dale, then yes. You can come back in."

"I wasn't asking for me specifically," said Volker quickly, glancing at Park. "I'm _boss_ at naming animals. I think I'll last."

"Of course. Colonel Young can start."

They looked at Young.

"Albatross," he said. They blinked.

"You're up, Volker," Eli said.

"Armadillo," Volker said.

"Aaamazzarite," said Eli. Everybody stared at him. "From Star Trek."

There was a silent and mutual decision not to bother.

"Alpaca," Park said.

"Ambrose," Greer said.

There was a pause.

"Ambrose?" Eli strained. "What the hell is _that_?"

"It was the name of my neighbor's dog when I was a kid."

"That doesn't count! You can't do _names_!"

"If Azaramites count, then Ambrose counts," said Greer stubbornly.

"No, it doesn't!"

"Eli," Young drawled. "Are Arazamites a species or a name?"

"A species!"

"Then Eli's in. Sergeant, can you think of something else?"

Greer thought it over and sullenly shook his head no.

"Then you're out. Rush's turn."

"Archaeopteryx," said Rush.

There was another pause.

"What the hell is that?" asked Greer.

"It's a fossil," Park explained.

"Um, was that ever proven to be … real?" asked Eli. Rush shot him a look that suggested the boy had no right to talk about reality.

"OK, OK. It's the colonel's turn again."

"Anaconda," Young said.

"Aardvark," Volker said.

"Adipose," said Eli. "Doctor Who."

Park bit her lip. All eyes turned to her.

"I'm out," she conceded, and joined Greer outside the circle.

"_Alionycteris paucidentata,_" said Rush.

As a group, they gawked at him.

"And _what_," said Young, "is _that_?"

"A Mindanao Pygmy Fruit Bat," Rush responded.

"Rush?" said Eli.

"Yes?"

"Find a hobby."

"That _is_ my hobby," Rush said grumpily.

"Whatever. Colonel Young, it's your turn."

Young was the next out, and Volker followed soon after when Rush and Eli maintained that 'anteater' was just a reprise of 'aardvark.'

"Akrennians," said Eli.

"Arctic fox," said Rush, completely baffling everyone as to why he chose Latin over English before.

"Allasomorph."

"_Ailbhean_."

"What?"

"It's elephant in Scottish."

"Scottish is _English_!" Eli cried. "And you can't just say things in other languages, that doesn't count!"

"Why not?" Volker cut in. "There's a precedent."

Eli gaped at him.

"That's true," said Young. "You accepted the Latin, Eli. You have to accept the Scottish."

"That is _not_ fair."

"Deal with it."

Fuming, Eli, threw out a muttered, "Andorians."

"Angelfish."

"Friggin' use up your _English_ ones before you friggin' confuse us all! _Angler fish_."

Rush deliberated. "Asian otters."

"Arcadians."

"Africans," said Rush.

There was a very awkward pause. Greer sat up a little straighter, eyes narrowed.

"Um …?" said Eli.

"Animals are eukaryotic and multi-cellular," said Rush. "And even if you disagree with that, the basic definition of the root word means 'having breath.' Would you agree that humans are animals?"

There was a low murmur of assent.

"Then I'm merely listing a sub-species."

"What the HELL is that supposed to mean?" Greer shouted, standing up. Park, who was sitting behind him, pulled him back down.

"I can't see!" she complained. "You're blocking my view."

"All right, fine," Eli said angrily. "Africans. Then I get Asians."

"Running out of alien species?"

"No!"

"Asii," said Rush, and then - like he knew full well that no one else understood - he added, "Central American ethnic group."

Eli scowled. He crossed his arms and thought. The group leaned forward, convinced the game was almost done.

"American eagle," Eli said.

There were mass groans from the audience.

"Asian black bear," Rush snapped.

"Asian elephant!"

"_African_ elephant!"

"African lion!"

The group instantly called foul.

"Tell me, Eli," said Rush calmly, "aside from those bred in captivity, exactly how many lions have you met that _aren't_ from Africa?"

Eli grimaced. The group sat forward again, all of them on the edges of their seats.

"I surrender," Eli said.

"Finally!" Volker yelled. Park drowned him out with cheers and Young shook his head, just glad it was over. Then -

"Now for B!" said Eli.

"NO!"


	6. Chapter 6: Braiding!

AN: POWER OUTAGES FUUUU!

TWO DAYS IN COLUMBUS WITH POWER OUTAGES AND NO LAPTOP FUUUUU!

TWO WEEKS AT A MICHIGAN CABIN WITH NO INTERNET STARTING TODAY FUUUUUUUU!

Enjoy the chapter.

* * *

Colonel Young really, really wasn't sure how it happened, but somewhere in the night – in the middle of a raging, booming thunderstorm – Rush had fallen asleep.

No one else had.

That was Rush's problem.

Currently, Young and Greer were playing tic-tac-toe in the scientist's notebook, while additionally (and surreptitiously) doodling things that may or may not have been dirty and may or may not have been gay.

What were Eli, Volker, and Park up to?

Well, suffice it to say, Young just wasn't sure how all three of them were able to braid wet hair in tandem.

Furthermore, he wasn't sure he wanted to be there when Rush woke up. The man would be livid.

"I swear off all liability for this," he announced, words almost drowned out by the pelt of rain against the shuttle. "If he asks, I was asleep."

General murmurs of agreement from the civilians.

"What do you know," Greer said softly, looking through the notebook. "Rush doodles, too."

Young craned his neck for a look. "Doodles what?"

"Eli as a chicken, sir, or so it seems."

"What?" Eli squawked. Young squinted at the page, vaguely aware of how Park and Volker were eagerly leaning forward, pulling Rush's unconscious body with them like a puppet.

"Yup," the colonel said. "That's Eli."

"Let me see!" Park cried, jumping to her feet. Rush lurched forward, and like a horror movie in slow motion, fell to the ground and landed face-down on the deck.

Quickly, Greer sat on the notebook.

"Ow," Rush groaned, trying to simultaneously cradle his ribs and get off the floor. "… the hell?"

He rolled over onto his back, stared hazily at the shuttle ceiling for a moment, and then brought both hands up to ghost around his head.

"… THE HELL?"

"Calm down," Volker urged. Rush turned on him like a wild dog.

"VOLKER! THIS WAS YOU? YOU USELESS &$^ING ASTROPHYSICIST, I'LL SKIN YOU! I'LL GIVE YOU A &%$#ING COLOMBIAN NECKTIE, YOU & #$ING #^$& ^#!"

"Calm down," Young said. With a very sullen air, Rush closed his mouth and crossed his arms. Volker stared at them in outrage.

"What the hell, man?" he cried. "He respects _you_? What the hell do _I _have to do, then? Club him on the head and leave him to die? Give him to aliens? SERIOUSLY!"

"Shut up, Volker," Rush snapped. He looked around a bit as he undid the braids. "Where's my notebook?"

"Check your pockets," Greer suggested.

"Thanks."

* * *

They were all asleep except Young, who lay awake, staring at the ceiling. Mostly, he was awake because somebody – cough_Greer_cough – kept rolling on top of his broken wrist.

Eli was sleeping on his stomach, butt in the air. Um … cute.

Volker and Rush were cuddling – oookay. Young could ignore that.

Park was sprawled out with a sleep-mask over her eyes. At least if she woke up, she wouldn't see her lover on top of someone else.

And Greer kept _freaking _lying on Young's _freaking _wrist.

"Greer," Young growled when the sergeant rolled over and ended up on top of him completely. "_Greer_. Wake up."

Greer nuzzled closer and drooled on the colonel's chest.

"_Greer_! Wake up. That's an order."

"Oh, _Lisa,_" Greer moaned.

Young froze.

"What?" he whispered, trying desperately to see the sergeant clearer. Then, across the room, he heard –

"_Ronnie _–"

_Park_?

"OK, seriously," Young hissed when Greer shifted closer and moaned again. "I'm uncomfortable. Get off."

Greer's hips bucked.

"_Not that way_! _Not that way_!"

Greer stilled. Young breathed a momentary sigh of relief and wondered how to remedy this situation.

"You gonna put nitrogen in those tires?" Volker mumbled. Young's head snapped around to him, gawking at the sleeping scientist.

_What the hell_?

"No, teachers would get in trouble for that," Volker sighed.

OK. This had gone beyond weird.

"Monkeys," Rush said.

Young closed his eyes. _Peace_, he willed himself. _Peace_.

Greer groaned. With a frantic, finally-had-too-freaking-much shove, Young pushed the sergeant off. Greer flopped over a few feet, collided hard with the deck plating, and shifted into a more comfortable position.

"Camels," Rush said. Young's entire face screwed up.

"GO TO SLEEP!" he screamed.

…

Silence.


End file.
